The Life of a Dead Girl
by Amber Quible
Summary: AU! Hermione is a druggie, criminal, drunk, murderer and has been pregnant all before she was 17. Will Ron and the gang help her change or will she remain on her self destructive path? Read to find out!
1. My Death

Hey guys,

This is a new story I wrote. It was actually based off of a dream I had. The story itself was not made for Harry Potter but I thought that I might as well publish it on here. The original copy is actually published on fictionpress(dot)net. Check it out please. And for the other story I am writing, I promise to update soon and I'm terribly sorry for not updating. I will give you my reasons for not updating sooner on the next chapter of that story.

Love ya all,

Amber

P.S. Please Review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Simple Plan, just my dreams!

Chapter One: My Death

Song: Shut Up! by Simple Plan

* * *

Hermione's POV:

"Thom, do you even know where we are?" yelled my mother, Kristen, at my father. We were currently traveling to Maine to go see my mother's "successful" sisters. Why does the fact that you became successful give you a reason to act like rich, stuffy, uptight snobs? I may never know, but apparently they think that it gives them every reason to act like that.

I hate going to visit my family on my mother's side. My uncles are very dull and rarely talk, instead they spend their time watching football or baseball on the television. It annoys me, but they are better than my aunts. My aunts are very uptight, gossipy and LOVE to criticize my hair, clothing, personality, body, actions, and, basically, everything about me! They also love to talk about my mother behind her back. She is the black sheep of the family and they avoid her like the plague. She married my father, the cop, instead of a guy like my uncles, the doctors. They think she screwed up her life by marrying for love and not money, and they hate me just as equally because they think I am the reason that she is still married to him. I don't care though, I hate them too. They are also the reason why I am a in a bad mood and in a fight with my parents.

They told me last week during dinner that we were going to be traveling to Maine to visit them. "Why do they always go back? Don't they see that those rich, arrogant pricks hate us?" I thought bitterly after they announced the "delightful news" as if it was no big deal. I responded to them a minute later after I got my anger in control. I told them to have a nice flight and tell my cousins Apple, Blake, and Fife I say hi. They stared at me, looking slightly confused, but, mostly, shocked after my statement. I took a deep breath and said the three magical words that caused the biggest fight in the history of parents vs. child fights, "I'm not going." We haven't talked, unless it was necessary, since then.

"Yes, Kristen, I know EXACTLY where we are," said my father with venom dripping through his voice. His jaw was also clenched very tightly, so tight to the point where it jutted out slightly and a huge, throbbing, bluish vein that ran from his eye to his temple protruded out.

"Well than Thom, were the hell are we?" yelled my mother at my father.

"I CAN TELL YOU WERE YOU WILL BE GOING! YA'LL BE RIGHT ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD, WHILE ME AND HERMIONE GO TO YOUR DAMN SISTER'S HOUSE!"

"WHY DON"T YOU JUST GO TO HELL, THOM!"

"I'LL SEE YOU THERE, HONEY!"

"THOM, WHY DON'T YOU JUST TAKE THIS SHOE AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR-"

"WHY DON"T YOU GUYS JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?" I screamed at them both. All of this yelling was giving me a headache.

"We're sorry, sweetie," whispered my mother before turning back around to glare at my father. "Thom Sparrow…you need to pull up to the nearest gas station and ask for directions this instant."My mother never used that voice unless she was really, really, REALLY mad at my father. My father sighed and pulled up to the inky-dinky, crummy, old Marathon gas station. He parked right in front of the station so that you could clearly see the old, grubby-looking, red counter with a white register that had a Marathon logo and a bunch of Sharpie graffiti plasted all over the side of it and a bunch of merchandise racks on top of it. There was a rather bored looking teen with really bad acne.

"Honey, do I really need to go get directions?" my dad pleaded with my mother.

"Yes, you do," my mother said in a definite tone in her voice as she glared at him. "And, I'm going with you to use the bathroom. Hermione? Do you need to use the bathroom too, dear?" I shook my head no before putting in my earphones and scrolling through my playlist. I wanted something loud and hateful to reflect my mood towards my parents, but it was kinda hard since most of my music was classical, due to my one true passion in life…ballet. I was usually ungraceful but when I put on my ballet shoes, which my mother got for $5 dollars at a garage sale, I was the definition of grace. I glided and leaped as if I was weightless. Ballet was also my release form the world and all of its pressure and stress. It was my safe haven.

I finally found the perfect song for me to release my anger to, Shut Up! by Simple Plan. I turned up the sound to full blast and started to scream along with the lyrics.

_**There you go  
You're always so right  
It's all a big show  
It's all about you**_

_**You think you know**_  
_**What everyone needs**_  
_**You always take time**_  
_**To criticize me**_

That's when I heard the screaming and yelling coming from the store. I looked up and saw my parents being shoved up against the counter by two tall, big, and faceless men wearing all black with two rifles pointed at my parents. I was frozen in fear. Unable to move to get help or to advert my eyes from the scene.

_**It seems like every day  
I make mistakes  
I just can't get it right**_

_**It's like I'm the one**_  
_**You love to hate**_  
_**But not today**_

One of the men went behind the counter and yelled at the frightened clerk to open up the till. The other man made my parents to empty out their pockets out on the counter.

**_So shut up, shut up, shut up  
Don't wanna hear it  
Get out, get out, get out  
Get out of my way  
Step up, step up, step up  
You'll never stop me  
Nothing you say today  
Is gonna bring me down  
_**

The clerk, after many failed attempts, finally opened up the till and gave the man everything in it. The man quickly shoved the money and my parents' wallets into a bright yellow backpack and ordered the clerk to go stand next to my parents. He and the other man slowly backed away from their very scared and frantic victims and shot them, execution style. That's when I started to scream.

I automatically ripped the ear buds out and ran out of the car. My first instinct was to run to my parents' blood soaked, stiff, cold bodies but the rational part of my brain told me to run, run away; the rational part won over my heart. I ran as fast as my legs would allow me to. I ran to the other side of the highway into the trees and watched as the men ran out of the store and into their black SUV. I quickly got up out of my hiding place to run to the gas station, but it quickly blew up into a massive fireball. Its heat was intense as it engulfed me. I tried to look away but I couldn't. I was transfixed.

I just stood there looking at the flames for what seemed to be months or years or even decades but was really just a matter of minutes before fire trucks and paramedics and police cruisers and passing cars came. The whole busy, chaotic, loud, and confusing scene made the fact that my parents were dead sink in. "They were dead. Gone for forever," was all I could think of. That's when everything went black.


	2. Homecoming, Manwhores, and Annabelle

Hey guys,

Here is the second chapter. YAY!

Well I don't have much to say except that the legal drinking age is 18 in the U.K. Also, Luna and Ginny are the same age as Harry, Ron, Hermione and everyone else.

Love, Amber

Chapter 2: Homecoming, Manwhores, and Annabelle

Song: Don't Tell Me U Love Me by Kid Rock

* * *

_3 years later…_

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! Look, look at that lady, Mommy! She looks scary," screamed some small toddler to his mother, who tried to hush him while staring at me. I smiled to myself as I scrolled through the playlist on my iPod and thought about how much I changed these past three years since the explosion.

I now wore dark colors like black, darker blues, deep purples, and jade greens. No more bright colors that drew attention. Attention was the last fucking thing I wanted. My hair was the same chocolate brown, but instead of being straightened and pulled back by a headband, it was now a mess of natural waves and curls that looked like "sex hair" or "bed head". My makeup also now just consisted of black eyeliner instead of a bunch of natural looking make up that ranged from mascara to blush to eye shadow and everything in between. I also recently inquired a black lip ring, eyebrow piercing, and multiple ear piercings along with a lot of scars from fights.

My personality also changed a lot since I was 14. I was no longer the naïve, little girl who knew nothing about the real world. Instead, I was now a person who carried a Bowie knife with her for protection because I now knew about the dangers and dark things of the world. And this was all because my mother's sisters were the bitches I always knew they were and decided it was better for me to be shifted from foster home to foster home.

One thing though that didn't change though was my love for ballet. I still danced, just not in public. Dancing in public was too hard for me to do anymore; I would just stand there in the middle of the stage with my heart pounding in my chest, thinking of all the ways I could screw up. Than my mind would start to wonder what the people who stared at me were thinking. Were they thinking I was bad, or that I was ugly or were they staring at my scars? Did they now I was a murderer? Did they, did they—and that's when the memory of the explosion would fill my thoughts and darkness would once again consume me. Ugh, I could really go for some vodka and a cig right now. All of these damn screaming kids, business guys yelling into their phones, and rejoicing families due to the upcoming holidays are giving me a headache.

"Flight 830 is now boarding for London. Flight 830 now boarding," said a monotone, cool, female voice through the busy and packed terminal's loudspeakers. I was sitting in the JFK airport, about to board an airplane to take me back to my hometown, the place I used to call home, and the place where everything started. The plane was to take me back to London, or what I prefer to call Hell.

London has a lot of meaning to my family. It was the place where my down-to-earth, free-loving, gypsy-traveler mom met my studious, bookworm, bassist in a punk/rock band father at a small pub in college after my mother's snobby, spotlight obsessed grandfather sent her to study abroad to make sure she didn't ruin his perfect reputation. She was the new waitress at my father's family's pub that was more interested in the getting to know the customers than making tips like the other waiters and waitresses. My father found this endearing and asked her out on a date. They soon fell in love and got married two years later.

The thought of them made my eyes pricked with tears; I quickly brushed them away and scolded myself for thinking of them. I promised myself on the day that I woke up in the hospital after my parents died, that I would never cry. Not even when Seth…I can't think about him now. Not now.

"Last call for Flight 830, last call," said the cool voice again, pulling me from my memories. I said a quick thanks to whatever higher power told that cold bitch to speak. I quickly grabbed my book bag that held all of my possessions and headed for the plane.

Ron POV:

"Ron, wake up! I have something important to tell you! Ron…Ron…RON!"

"Arghh!" I screamed as I fell out of bed and onto the floor. Great, I thought, now my head is throbbing. What a great way to wake up. After the dizziness seemed to fade, I slowly and gingerly sat up and opened my eyes to see my twin sister, Ginny, sitting on my bed, smiling at me like she received the biggest surprise of all. I quickly looked over at the clock and it read that it was 10:30. Ugh great, I missed breakfast.

"I know something you don't," she said with an impossibly bigger smile on her face.

"Your point?"

"My point…well my point is that I know something really, really, REALLY important that you don't know. And it may be useful for you to know…and you may only find out from me," she said this while filing her nails with a nail file she pulled out from her bra, "That's if you asked me."

"Just tell me, Ginny," I said in an exasperated tone. I was really getting tired of this. It's too early in the morning for mind games.

"Say please first."

"Please."

"Nope," she said popping the "p".

"Why not?"

"Becau-," the door suddenly banged opened.

"Because she is a stubborn, hyper, annoying little pixie," said Harry, Ginny's boyfriend and my best mate, as he entered the room and walked over to stand next to Ginny. Ginny looked up at him and pouted at him for interrupting her. "She is my pixie though," Harry whispered before sweeping in for a kiss. Ginny happily complied, seeming to forget that she was mad at him. This little sweet moment was too much for me to look at, so I turned away before I barfed up last night's dinner. I never did figure out how Harry could stay tied down to a girl for a year. I had a hard time staying tied down to a girl for a week!

"Aww, look at Ron. He looks like he is gonna barf. Is me and Harry kissing too much for little Ronniekins?" said Ginny in the sickly sweet voice that can make anyone's hair stand up on the back of their necks.

"Give him a break, Ginny!" said Harry in a defensive tone. Finally! Someone here is on my side. "The poor bastard has to put up with that every day from the types of girls that date his manwhore ass!" Harry just smiled with that goofy grin on his face as if he just won first place in a football tournament. I, on the other hand, did not smile. My best mate seriously just did not call me a manwhore.

I mean sure, I admit, I am a player. But a manwhore, no way. I just simply never wanted a relationship, just a good snog or shag. Girls to me are a way to escape my misery I call my life and forget everything, not another thing to drag me down. Besides, the girls I "date" get something out of this fling too. They become famous and popular for a week because they are dating the track star, co-captain of the football (soccer) team, and the most popular and handsome guy in Hogwarts Academy of Science and the Arts. Every girl, and some guys, wants me and every guy, except maybe Harry, wants to be me. I mean, come on, what's not to love?

"Harry, Ron is thinking again! Quick, let's get out of here before his head explodes!" Ginny whispered to Harry as she stared at me with a small smile on her face.

"Har, har, you guys are just SO funny," I said in a very sarcastic voice.

"Ah, Ron, don't be like that," Harry said in an almost exasperated tone. "Why don't you come and meet me, Ginny, Dean, Luna, Seamus, and Neville down at Three Broomsticks for a couple of drinks?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll see ya guys there at lunch time."

"Kay. Come on Gin, let's go get some Holiday shopping done."Harry smiled at Ginny as he held out his hand for her. She gladly took it and leapt of the bed with as much grace as a professional dancer and started to skip out the room with Harry in toe, but quickly turned around.

"Oh, and Ron," she said with a serious look on her face, "don't forget that Bill and Fleur, Charlie and Roxanne, Percy and Penelope, Fred and Angela, and George and Katie are coming home for Christmas and that Harry, as well as Luna and Neville, are coming too. But most of all, Don't. Forget. Me. in your shopping list. Love ya, bye." I just shook my head and thanked God that they are gone! I quickly walked over to the door and shut it before turning around to stare at Harry, Neville, and mine's dorm room.

It was a beautiful room compared to a lot of other school's dorms. It was a very traditional designed and furnished room with some modern hints. The left side of the room had three canopy covered beds with red and gold curtains side by side. Next to each of the beds was a mahogany nightstand strewn with the bed's occupant's personal items and a mahogany chest at the foot of the bed storing clothing, books, notebooks, pens, and other such things. The middle of the room had a small dark red couch and cherry coffee table placed on top of a large gold area rug facing a large plasma T.V. And at the far end was three large mahogany desks each supporting expensive look laptops, numerous coffee cups and papers.

The fine furniture however was not the vocal point of the room. The thing that made this room and actually the whole Gryffindor dorm complex the best above the other three complexes was the scenic, panoramic view of the school grounds and lake that each of the Gryffindor dorm rooms offered. It was the one thing, besides shagging, that made my head go blank. Whenever I looked out at the lake I felt at peace with the world.

I seemed to have spaced out for a while because I soon was brought out of my daze when I heard a small, familiar, squeaky voice yelling at me through the door. I quickly turned around to open it and to my surprise, it was lovely, little Annabelle glaring up at me with her big brown eyes.

"Ronnie," Annabelle said in an angry little voice, "you mizzed breakfast and me waz worried about yous." She than flung herself to my legs and cried. Annabelle was two and a half and the most darling, little thing in the world. She was the biology teacher's adopted daughter from Cambridge, Massachusetts. Annabelle had a very spunky and loveable personality. She loved to give love and be loved. This was obvious about her from the day I met her in detention.

Harry, Ginny, Luna and I were goofing off and chucking plant roots at each other in biology one day last year in the spring, when my hand let go too soon of the root and hit Mrs. Sprout in the head. She turned around and yelled at me for a good hour before giving all of us a detention for later that night. When we arrived at her classroom, Mrs. Sprout had a diaper bag and little Annabelle in her arms. The girls and Harry cooed and obsessed over the little girl while I wanted nothing to do with her. Ginny, however, wouldn't let me have my way and made me hold her. At first I was nervous that I would drop her but when she opened her big chocolate brown eyes, I felt at ease. Ever since that night I offered Mrs. Sprout to babysit Annabelle for free and she always happily obliged.

All of the guys on the football team and my friends tease me about Annabelle and constantly say that she is the only consistent woman in my life, but I don't care. I love this little girl.

"It's ok, Anna. I'm fine. See, I'm fine." I said reassuringly in her ear as I gently picked her up and rubbed her back. Annabelle quickly pulled away from me and looked at me closely, inspecting me of anything bad.

"Yous sure?" she whispered in a small, little voice.

"Positive."

"Otay!" she smiled happily as she wiggled in my arms to get free. "Ronnie, can you pretty, pretty, pleassse do your silly dance for me?" she asked in a candy, sweet like voice as she pouted. I could never say no to that face, and she knew that very well. So whenever she really wanted me to do something for her, she would just pout. I quickly glanced at the clock and was shocked that it was 11:30 already. I had only thirty minutes to get dressed and down to the pub in time. I quickly looked down to see that I was wearing a pair of jeans from yesterday. That saves me some time; I will just throw on a shirt and be ready to go.

"Sure, Annabelle. Let me just go put the CD in and get a shirt on." Annabelle cheered in joy and quickly ran to hop onto my bed. I made my way over to the stereo system next to the T.V. when I had a great idea to keep her occupied while I searched for the CD. "Annabelle, how bout you go pick me out a T-shirt to wear and I will go find the CD?" She quickly nodded yes and crawled across my bed to the chest and started to rifle through my shirts. I chuckled quietly to myself and started to shuffle through CDs until I found it.

"Annabelle, I foun-"

"Ronnie! I found yous a shiwt!" She exclaimed loudly while holding up the maroon shirt that she got me for last year's Christmas that said Annabelle and Ronnie across the front with a picture of me reading to Annabelle as she sat in my lap. I smiled at her as her face bubbled with excitement.

"It's perfect, Annabelle," She than squealed in happiness and attempted to throw the shirt at me with all her might but ended up falling short. I just chuckled and threw it on. "And guess what? I found the CD." Annabelle than screamed out in joy and jumped up and down on the bed as I turned on the stereo.

**From hard luck tricks  
To trust fund freaks  
Bathroom stalls to penthouse suites  
I been around**

I quickly picked up Annabelle and spun her around in circles as her laughter filled the room with it wonderful noise.

**I been around  
From the bottom of the barrel  
To the cream of the crop  
They've picked me up  
And I've watched 'em drop  
I been around  
I been around  
I sang 'em all a song or two  
About simple things  
Still I feel I'm bein' used  
Ain't a damn thing changed**

**I'm an outlaw**  
**Bad Leroy Brown**  
**The only Cool Hand Luke left in this town**  
**I get my lovin' on the run**  
**I'm a low down**  
**Mister fly by night**  
**Baby slow down**  
**Let me show you right**  
**I sure don't wanna hurt no one**

I turned up the music and continued to dance silly throughout the room, just laughing along at our foolishness.

**So, don't tell me you love me**  
**Don't tell me you love, love me do**  
**Don't tell me you love me**  
**Cuz love's one thing that I cannot do**  
**And it's the only thing that I can't give to you**

**From Hollywood hoes to backstage jive**  
**Jacked up trucks and Gulf Stream 5's**  
**I been around**  
**I been around**  
**From silly little girls who play them games**  
**To the rich and famous**  
**I won't say no names**  
**I been around**  
**I been around**  
**You gotta touch the stove to learn they say**  
**Get burnt and learn that way**  
**You better keep your feelings at bay**  
**Or honey you gonna pay**

**I'm an outlaw**  
**Bad Leroy Brown**  
**I'm the only John Wayne left in this town**  
**I get my lovin' on the run**  
**I'm a low down**  
**Mister fly by night**  
**Baby slow down**  
**I'ma fuck you right**  
**I sure don't wanna hurt no one**

"WILL YOU TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN!" screamed the most beautiful creature from the door way.

**So, don't tell me you love me  
**


	3. Cold Heartless Bitch

Chapter 3: Cold Heartles Bitch

Song: Pain by Three Days Grace

* * *

Hermione's POV:

_"I love you, Hermione," Seth whispered into my ear before he nibbled on it. We just got done with a liquor store robbery and were currently traveling down the highway on Seth's bike in the dark. We were laughing, drinking, smoking, and snorting crack. This is my life, this is my joy, and, most importantly, this is my funeral. _

_I closed my eyes as his lips found their way from my earlobe to my neck. I moaned every time he bit down on my soft and sensitive skin. His touch was enough to send shivers running up and down my spine. "I love you too, Seth," I whispered quietly, as if I was saying some forbidden word. I truly did love him, even though I was only 14. Seth was everything to me since my parents died four months ago. He was the one who took me in after my foster parents kicked me out after catching me shooting heroine in my room; the one who took the fall after I screwed up at a simple robbery; the one who taught me how to use a knife and shoot a gun; the one who I had my first time with and the only one who knew what happened to my parents. _

_I slowly turned my body around to face him as he drove down the highway. I looked into his eyes and saw my salvation and comfort. I just smiled and leaned in to kiss him. Our simple kiss soon turned into a mad and passionate make-out session. The kissing was blissful, peaceful, and calming. I melted into him; letting all of my fears and worries vanish._

_I was so lost into my thoughts that I didn't see or hear the truck coming straight towards us, until its headlights shined blindly from behind me and lit up Seth's face. I screamed out in fear. "This was it, I was going to die," was all that I could think about as the light drew nearer and nearer. Yet though I wasn't afraid, I was actually kinda glad that I was about to die._

_The last thought scared me shitless. I couldn't believe that I would be glad to die. My life was perfect now, so why did I want it to end?_

_"'Mione, are you ok?" asked Seth. I quickly snapped out of my ravine and looked around at my surroundings. We were parked to the side of corn field on a small dirt road. "We lived, we are alive…oh my god, we are alive!" was all that was going through my mind. Seth, the baby and I were alive. The baby, I almost forgot about it. It was startling to me that I would forget about something that was so important to me and Seth. Shit, I haven't told Seth about the baby either. I'm losing it, I'm finally losing it. _

_"Hello? Earth to Hermione!" Seth yelled at me when I failed to respond to him again. I looked at him straight into his ice cold, piercing blue eyes expecting to see humor and love but just anger._

_"I'm sorry. I just spaced. I guess the truck scared me a little…," I mumbled off. I wasn't really scared of the truck; I was scared of him and what I saw in his eyes. _

_"What? Why? How can you be scared of a little truck when you just set a liquor store on fire and got into a knife fight with Nikki before then?" he asked with an incredulous expression on his face. _

_"I donno."_

_"Well, okay?" he asked in an unconvinced and unsure voice. "Hey, how about you and me go out into that middle of the corn field and smoke some weed, huh? What do ya say? Maybe we could also do some…other things," he looked at me with a suggestive look and lust filled eyes. I just cringed a little because I definitely knew what "other things" meant. They were the things that got me here in this situation in the first place. He probably will never want to touch me after I tell him. But he was so great with everything else, so this shouldn't be anything new. _

_"Sure, why not."_

_"Okay, good. Now com'on," he said as he marched off into the cornfield, not bothering to wait for me. I just fallowed right behind him, trying to catch up. _

_After what seemed like hours, we arrived into an area where the corn stalks were pushed down creating a small little open field. Seth was searching his pockets for the weed and cursing under his breath. I just rolled my eyes and looked around, taking in my surroundings but seeing nothing. Nothing but corn stalks. Well that was until I looked up. The dark blue night sky was filled with thousands and thousands of little stars, all coming together to create something beautiful. It seemed like ages, but really was only minutes when Seth came up behind me._

_"Hey girly, I couldn't find the weed but guess what I did found?" He breathed into my ear. "I found some heroine. I know it's your favorite." He already had the syringe in his hand for me to take when I turned around and faced him. He seemed somewhat happy, or at least baked. I just smiled at him. This is how he always was on a daily basis; baked, drunk and happy. Hell, I was the same way. We were actually rarely sober and that was fine with me. Because when I was sober, my memories had the chance to evade my mind and send me to places that I wish I could forget about. _

_I leaned into his chest and let his unique smell of leather, pot smoke, cheap beer, and dead leaves take me away from this place and away from all of my worries about telling Seth about the baby. The baby…that was the second time I forgot about it. I can't believe that I actually keep on forgetting about it. I should probably tell him now. He seems to be in a good mood and I don't think I will ever have a better chance to tell him. I didn't want to do it though, I was content staying here in his arms but I knew I had to tell him. I pulled away from him slowly and looked up into his dazed and cloudy eyes._

_"Seth," I said in a small, soft voice, "I'm pregnant." I just told him straight out, not watering it down for him or being nice about it. I thought he would take it well, but how wrong I was._

_"YOU'RE FUCKING PREGNANT? YOU LITTLE FLITHY SLU_

"Miss, Miss. Please wake up, miss," said the pretty, blonde flight attendant that shook me awake, "We are about to be landing soon and you still need to put your seatbelt on." She smiled that artificial smile that all flight attendants and social workers wore before she left to go wake another passenger.

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

Ugh, that dream was too real and disturbing for me. I haven't had a dream like that since I was in the hospital in Cambridge, Massachusetts after giving birth to the baby two years ago…shit, don't think of her, don't think of her. I can't risk having an emotional breakdown right now.

"Attention passengers, we are preparing to land shortly in the London Heathrow Airport in London, United Kingdom. Please prepare to land," said some cool and pompous male voice through the speaker. _"Are all flight speakers assholes?"_I thought in my head as I gathered up all of my things. I sighed out an impatiently and started to tap my foot, which seemed to annoy the bald headed guy next to me.

I really couldn't wait to get off this plane, because after seven hours of traveling, you tend to get restless and feel claustrophobic. I, however, was not ready to go live with my father's parents. Apparently, they got worried about their only child after he didn't call or come to visit after three years and called my aunts. They told them that my parents died and I was currently living in South Carolina with a "nice" foster family. My grandparents were outraged that the fact that my aunts did not tell them that their son was dead, but mostly because that I was in foster care. They immediately flew out to South Carolina and talked to my case worker about adopting me. So that's how I am here, on this plane, sitting next to some bald headed guy who smelt like bad cheese.

The plane landed shortly and the all of the passengers soon departed. I was one of the first ones out, since I shoved a lot of the people to the side so I wouldn't get caught in the crowd. I quickly headed to gate entrance and searched for the elderly couple said to be my grandparents. I couldn't, however, see past the massive crowds heads so I quickly ran over to a cluster of chairs and stood on one to look for them.

_You're sick of feeling numb_  
_You're not the only one_  
_I'll take you by the hand_  
_And I'll show you a world that you can understand_

"Ahem, excuse me miss. Are you Hermione Sparrow?" I quickly spun around and instantly grabbed for my Bowie knife, only to find a middle aged looking couple standing behind me. I was still unsure as I hopped down off my chair but I let go of my Bowie knife that was still concealed in my purple and black checkered corduroy jacket. The woman was rather thin and petite and had caramel colored hair that was pulled back into a loose bun with ice blue eyes that seem to smile as she smiled. She seemed happy to see me for some reason, which truthfully creeped me out. The man, however, was completely different in looks compared to the woman. He was rather tall and round in the middle with thinning brown and a bushy mustache that was speckled with gray. His eyes were a grayish brown just like mine and his smile was similar to the woman's but less creepy for some reason.

"Actually, it's Hermione Granger now. I changed it last year. But may I ask…how do you know who I am?" I asked cautiously. These two may seem harmless, but a dog seems harmless until it bites you in the ankle.

"Ah, yes. Well we are your grandparents. I am Thom Sparrow and this is Marie Sparrow. It's a pleasure to see you finally for the first time. You look so much like your father," the man said in a cheery voice before hugging me. He took me off guard when he hugged me, so I just tapped his back lightly. My grandma just stood behind him silent but still smiling as tears rolled down her cheeks. My grandfather soon pulled away after a while and as soon as I think I'm done with hugs, my grandma squeals and embraces me in a bone crushing hug.

"I...I…th…thought…that…we…wee…lo…lo…lost you forever!" She sobbed out into my shoulder. I felt really uncomfortable, but I somehow managed to give her a hug back and that seemed to be enough for her. After a couple a minutes she pulled away.

"Um, okay. Soo…do we need to go get your bags?" she asked as she wiped her eyes dry.

"Actually, no. This is the only bag I have," I said in a small voice. I felt my cheeks go red with embarrassment.

"And as I thought it would be," stated my grandmother as she quickly turned on her heel and stormed out of the gate entrance to the direction of the parking lot. I was utterly confused and looked to my grandfather for some explanation, which turned out to be a bad idea. He looked just as, if not more, confused as me. He shrugged it off though and gestured for me to fallow her. We made it to the car shortly after and saw my grandmother fiddling through her purse.

_This life is filled with hurt_  
_When happiness doesn't work_  
_Trust me and take my hand_  
_When the lights go out you will understand_

"Whatcha lookin' for, dear?" my grandfather asked cautiously.

"Oh, just that roll of hundreds I got from our savings account this morning," she replied as if it was nothing.

"You did WHAT?" my grandfather asked as his eyes popped out of his head. He looked seriously pissed off. I mean, I would too if someone just took about two thousand dollars out of my savings.

"I took two thousand dollars out of our savings, "she stated simply and bluntly. " I figured that Hermione would have nothing with her, so I took out some money so we could get her some new clothes, uniforms, leotards, dance skirts, new ballet shoes, and maybe a few books and CDs." Grandpa and I just stared at her in shock, but our reasons were completely different. She said uniforms, dance skirts, ballet shoes and leotards. Why in the hell would I need those?

"Oh well…I never thought of that," said my rather dumbstruck grandfather.

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

"And that's why I do all of the financial books," she said kindly as she patted his cheek before turning to me. "Well, we need to be heading off, my dear. You are expected at the Academy in," she quickly glanced at her watch, "two hours and we have A LOT of shopping to do." Wait, what did she mean by the Academy?

"Umm, I'm not trying to be rude, but what do you mean by the Academy and why do I need all of this stuff?" I said in an uncertain voice.

"Oh, dear I totally forgot to tell you. Well, get in the car and I will explain it to you as we drive to the Pineapple Shop to pick you up some ballet shoes and clothes." She said as she hopped into the car. I was still utterly confused as ever, but got in the car anyways.

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

I expected my grandmother to explain what was going on right away but she didn't. She actually didn't say anything at all, which worried me. I thought about asking her what was going on but she seemed too deep within her thoughts, so I didn't ask. Instead I stared out the car window as we drove past all the homes, businesses, shops and people, thinking about what was going to happen to me. I actually never met my father's parents before today. I remember asking him about it when he was alive but he would just tense up and change the subject. I never actually knew why he did that until the month before he died. I heard him talking to my mother late one night at the table about them. Apparently they sent my father money to me for my birthday. I thought it was nothing because a lot of grandparents send money to their grandchildren, but to him, it was a slap in the face. He was cussing them out about how they sent me money and gifts but never came to see me because of my mother. They hated my mother for apparently getting knocked up and forcing my father to marry her. I was shocked but I never said anything about it. I thought it would be best for me to pretend it never happened.

"Hermione, darling, we're home," my grandfather smiled at me. I attempted to return the smile but it turned into an awkward half smile. He just chuckled at me and got out of the car. I quickly followed his lead and stumbled out of the car onto the black top to be blinded by the bright sunlight. Ugh, hello floor, nice to meet you again, I thought bitterly as I brushed myself off. I quickly scanned my surroundings after getting up and was immediately amazed. We arrived at a very proper, upper class, white townhouse that faced the Thames River. It was so gorgeous and elegant that I could've stared at it for forever. But, reality decided to say hi.

"Hermione, come along. We need to go inside and make a list of what you need," my grandmother called from the front door. She was such a persistent little bug.

I quickly ran into the house, wanting to get out of the blazing hot sun. I was again quickly amazed with what I saw when I got in. If you thought that the outside was beautiful, the inside was magnificent. The entry hall was painted a light gold with a large, antique crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and handsome ebony steps running up the side to the upper floors.

"Come along now. We have a lot to get done and not much time," my grandmother said again in exasperated tone as she held a door open for me on the left side of the hall. I hurried into the room so I wouldn't make her mad. The room, itself, was very spacious and well designed. The walls were painted a light, sky blue with chocolate brown seating and cream colored carpet. All of the seating, except for two matching antique mahogany chairs and table, were gathered around to the handsome white wooded fire place. The room was so far my most favorite room ever.

My grandmother motioned to me to fallow her to the two chairs and table that were placed next to the wide, huge, expansive window with a perfect view of the Thames River. I fallowed her carefully so I wouldn't ruin anything in her grand room. She quickly sat down in the farthest chair, leaving me to take the other one, which I took gratefully. As soon as I was seated, she quickly folded her hands together on top of the table and let out a long, tired sigh, one that I'm sure she used a lot recently.

"So…you are probably wondering why you need all of that stuff. But, I think what you want to know most is why now." she said in a tired, quiet voice. I was taken aback by her last statement, what did she mean? My confusion must have showed on my face, for she quickly elaborated, "What I mean is that you are probably wondering why now, why did we now come and get you and not three years ago. "

My face quickly grew hot, how did she know?

"Oh, trust me, if you're anything like your father, you would've wanted to know. So don't try to say you didn't want to know, because it's been apparent on your face since we saw you at the airport," she chuckled softly and stared out the window as if she was remembering an old memory, but it soon turned somber as she averted her ice blue eyes to my chocolate brown ones.

"We were foolish, absolutely foolish. We were furious at your father for breaking off his engagement with Julia Holmes and marrying your mother instead, that we disowned him, your mother, and, ultimately, you. We wouldn't even come to the hospital to see you after you were born because we were so livid," she whispered in a pained sounding voice as tears rolled down her cheeks from her wrinkled eyes, "We completely cut off communication with him and your mother until you turned five. We sent you a charmed bracelet and a letter for your father. We didn't ask for forgiveness though, we were too proud to admit that we were wrong. We just said that we were just checking to see that he was still alive and waiting for him to return home without your mother. We continued to send him a letter and charm every two years, with the same message and he would always respond with a picture of you and your mother together. It made us livid and distraught that he didn't listen to him but at least we knew he was ok. But when we sent him one two years ago, he never responded. At first we thought he just gave up but a year went by and no sign. We got worried so we decided to call your aunts and they told us… " Now she was sobbing hysterically, "They told us that he and your mother were dead and…and…you…you were in a group home in South Carolina. We didn't believe at first until after we found you. And that's why you are now here with us."

She was now in full blown sobs. Her little, fragile looking body was shaking as wave after wave of sobs poured out of her, as if she was bottling all of this in for years and years and finally the top blew off. I knew I should've tried to comfort her but I was paralyzed by shock. Instead I just glared down at the table and burned a hole through it.

_Anger and agony_  
_Are better than misery_  
_Trust me, I've got a plan_  
_When the lights go off, you will understand_

I raised my head and stared at her helpless sobbing form. "S_he wasn't in my life because of my mother? How could they be this cold?" _I felt all of my anger course through my veins and take control. "You were not in my life because who my mother was? You didn't care about me or even bother to visit me because my mother wasn't a damn fucking debutant? What kind of damn grandparent does that to their damn grandchild. You…you…you are just a cold heartless bitch. And I'm glad my father never forgave you!" I stood up and stormed out of the house with silent tears streaming down my face. I looked up into the bright sun, letting my anger turn into adrenaline and then I took off running.

I ran and ran down the street, shoving people out of my way and never stopping. I even continued to run past my breaking point and let the pain in chest and the soreness legs fuel me; pushing me farther and farther along.

My mind was blank. Absolutely blank kind of like a T.V. that has nothing but white static on its screen. Just sitting there, doing nothing, showing nothing, and feeling nothing but white static. Being like a T.V. was one of the worst types of pain. It didn't affect you immediately, but instead it would bottle up the pain until it would explode, kinda like a balloon that was over filled with water. It hurt but you couldn't stop it unless….

"Hermione! Stop running. Please stop," yelled a familiar voice behind me. I knew who it was, but I didn't stop. Instead, I pushed myself even harder, gaining speed every second. I broke out into sprints, running as fast and as hard as I could go until I couldn't anymore. I crashed hard into the asphalt; my skin scraping across the abrasive ground and my blood seeping into the cracks. I didn't care though. This pain was better than being a white static T.V.

I felt my vision start to waver. I saw purple, pink, and yellow polka dots everywhere I looked, but as soon as those psychedelic colors came, they were enveloped by darkness. All I heard in the distance was a screaming woman's voice and a wail of sirens.

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing, rather feel pain_

_I know, I know that you're wounded_  
_You know, you know that I'm here to save you_  
_You know, you know I'm always here for you_  
_I know, I know that you'll thank me later_

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

_Pain, without love_  
_Pain, I can't get enough_  
_Pain, I like it rough_  
_'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_  
_Rather feel pain than nothing at all_  
_Rather feel pain_


End file.
